


Flavia

by damageditem



Category: Coriolanus - Shakespeare, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Arranged Marriage, F/M, Love, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-15
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-02-17 13:39:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2311571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/damageditem/pseuds/damageditem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Caius Martius returns home after a battle severely wounded. Volumnia, his mother, charges Flavia, one of the slaves of the house, to take care of his wounds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Finally! The meal is finished. You thought you’d never end preparing the different dishes for the master’s return, but with an extra effort from the four of you, you did it. You had barely slept these last two days, and all you wish now is a long night of repairing sleep. Not that you’re going to enjoy it today, though.

The master’s arrival after rejecting the Tarquins will bring an overload of people around the house, with all the extra work it implies. And both he and his mother don’t tolerate failures. You cannot say they are nice masters. They are really strict, but they don’t mess with us unless it's necessary. If you do your duty as requested, you won’t have any troubles. And the master spends so much time fighting and exercising, that he’s barely home, so there are little chances of upsetting him.

“Flavia! Your help is needed. The master has arrived, and he’s injured. Mistress Volumnia requires you to take care of his wounds.”

You took the box with the clean linen, the balms and herbs, asked Petronius to bring some clean water and you flew to the master’s room.

You acquired some medical knowledge during the years you served a Greek doctor in Antium, and that has gained you a reputation in master Martius’ house. Many a time you’ve helped him healing his fighting wounds and minimizing the scars. You know mistress Volumnia doesn’t like that at all, but as long as you are taking care of those wounds, you won’t let those ugly scars spoil him.

You entered the room, and found him unconscious, already in bed. His mother was counting every wound, proud of each and every one of them, admiring in ecstasy the oak-leaf crown he had won. Sometimes you wonder if she loves his scars more than she loves him.

You cleared your throat to let her know you’re there.

“Ah, Flavia, you’re there. Come in.”

“How is he? What can I do, mistress?”

“The surgeon already examined him at the camp. He thinks he’ll survive, but he has an injury in the neck and two more in the left thigh. He’s very weak after the blood loss, and the surgeon ordered to check his injuries twice a day. Of course you’ll be relieved of any other duty until he’s recovered. I’ll leave you now. If you need something, you know what to do.”

You nodded silently, and turned towards him.

You approached the bed carefully, and looked at him. He was so pale and looked so fragile… You had never seen him like this. You let Petronius enter the room with the fresh water, and he run off from the room as fast as he could. He did not want to face the master’s fury again. So, you were left alone in the room.

First of all, you had to undress him. Those filthy clothes won’t help healing. You cut off the tunic, carefully unsticking it from the wounds, and started cleaning him, to locate the injuries. You took a piece of clean cloth, soaked it in fresh water, and carefully brushed his forehead, moving through his nose, and his cheeks. You cleaned his lips, remembering the first time he kissed you. He wasn’t gentle at all, but he stirred something inside you. After that, he started fucking you every time he returned from a training. He arrived excited, aroused, full of lust, after defeating every opponent, and he used you as his release. You really liked it. Furious, raw sex that left you shaking for hours.

You returned to the present, and kept cleaning his neck, and chest. You lingered there, admiring his broad chest, rubbing it tenderly and checking for hidden injuries. You rinsed the cloth, and proceeded to clean his abdomen, losing yourself in the thin trail of hair, and the shape of his muscles. You finished cleaning his long legs, did your best cleaning his back, and then untied the belt to remove his loincloth. You admired him, naked, so beautiful, so quiet, so unlike him that your belly tightened, and hurt, and a lonely tear fell from your eye.

You carefully uncovered the neck’s injury. It didn’t look good. You didn’t know what that surgeon did, but certainly he did not take care of it. You picked a new cloth and cleaned it carefully. You poured some vinegar over it, took a dose of the balm and applied it over the wound before covering it with a new bandage. He stirred slightly, but not as he should. The vinegar should sting a lot, and he barely protested. That was not a good sign.

You went to the wounds of his left thigh, uncovering them. One of them was very deep. He must have bled a lot. The other one looked better. You cleaned them again with vinegar, applied more balm on the deep one, and some honey on the lighter one. You bandaged them, and covered him with a new tunic. Now you can only wait, and pray.

You brought the dirty water and clothes to the laundry room, and returned to the room as soon as you could with more fresh clean water, some wine and a piece of bread.

You sat by his side again, watching his chest move up and down with every breath; his breathing was heavier now, and he was stirring, mumbling things you couldn’t understand. His forehead was filling with small drops of sweat. You got your hand close to his face and felt the heat coming from it before you even touched it. He was boiling with fever.

You took the charm off your wrist, and gently tied it to his. You should bring it to the Temple of Febris at the Palatine, and ask the Goddess for his recovery. Meanwhile, you wiped the sweat from his forehead, poured a few drops of water on his dry lips and rubbed his body with a fresh damp cloth, to refresh him.

Finally he seemed to calm down a little, though he kept on speaking in his dreams. You were alone, and he was asleep, so you dared holding his hand, whishing you could do something more to ease him.

You were so tired after these last days work, that you leaned your head against the wall, and thought about him.

You remembered that first time, after a particularly long training session, when he defeated five of his opponents without getting even a bruise. You liked to watch him when you could. He was so brave, so fierce, so strong… He entered the house like a wild animal. You were finishing the cleaning of the last room, when he spotted you. You saw him coming towards you, his eyes darker than usual, breathing heavily. He took you by the waist and tossed you into the room.

“I saw you watching me before. Did you like it, woman?”

He grabbed your hair and leaned your head backwards while he pressed his body against yours. He kissed you, pushing his tongue inside your mouth, biting your lips, and your chin, and then your neck. You could feel his hardness between your legs and you could only think of having him inside you.

“I asked you if you liked what you saw.” You couldn’t even speak, so you nodded. He then slid his hand under your white woollen tunic, searching for your sex. He touched you, and felt your wetness. You blushed.

“I think you really liked it, you little whore. Let’s see if you like this, too.”

He turned you around and said: “Put your hands in the wall and don’t move.” You obeyed him, your sex throbbing with the anticipation of what was coming. He spread your legs with his feet, tore your tunic apart and untied his loincloth, rubbing his hardness against your sex. You let go a deep moan, and moved your hips to meet his erection.

“I said… don’t move.” You heard the sound of a slap, and then you felt it in your ass. You gasped, and felt it burning when he slapped you again, harder this time. You felt the tears falling from your face, and then you felt him entering you, in one hard thrust. The mixture of pain and pleasure was more than you could have imagined, and you moaned louder as he slapped you again, while he pushed harder inside you.

He grabbed your hair with one hand and kissed your neck, while he cupped your breast with his free hand. He kept pushing deeper, and harder, growling like an animal behind your ear, and you felt a wave of pleasure growing inside your legs. He kept thrusting, and suddenly everything became blurred, your legs were shaking and you could not breathe. Your sex was throbbing, and the wave was spreading through all your body. You cried in ecstasy, and then you felt him growling deeper and finishing his pleasure inside you. He lingered inside you until he recovered his breath, he put his clothes on, and left. You stood there, breathless, feeling your juices sliding through your thighs, wondering when he will exercise again.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning mistress Volumnia entered the room to enquire about her son. “How is my son feeling today?”

“Yesterday night he was boiling with fever, but I managed to cool him a little. He’s better this morning, but he is still stirring in his sleep. I think maybe I should go to the temple of Febris to make an offer to the Goddess and pray for his recovery, mistress.”

She took a look at him and nodded. “You are right. Go to the temple, but come back as soon as possible to take care of him. Do not delay.” She turned around and left the room without a second thought about him.

You shook your head in disbelief, and reached the side of his bed. Touching his forehead, you noticed he was still hot, but not boiling, as yesterday. You sighed, relieved. Maybe he’d recover after all. You held his hand for a while, maybe a little longer than was proper, and then you took off the charm you had tied there, tying it to your wrist.

Caressing his face, you whispered: “I’ll be back soon, master.”

He did not move, though he mumbled some words you could not understand. You left the room and run to the temple as fast as you could. Once there, you untied the charm from your wrist and left it at the altar, saying a silent prayer for the Goddess to save the life of the man you… of your master.

You ran back home, and stopped in the kitchen to grab some bread and wine, clean linen and you also asked Petronius to bring some more fresh water to the master’s bedroom.

The room’s air was thick, filled with the scent of the balms, vinegar, blood, sweat… You opened the thick clothes covering the windows, and let the light of day and some fresh morning air come into the room. As soon as Petronius brought the heavy jar of fresh water, you took off your master’s gown to clean him again and check his wounds, in case the bandages would need to be changed.

You looked at him, admiring how beautiful he is. His short curled hair, a pair of big sky blue eyes, a masculine jaw, thin lips, a broad chest, sculpted in so many battles, along with his powerful and strong arms and those callous hands, capable of bringing you to the edge of heaven every time they touched you. You stared at his tough thighs, and that piece of flesh that made you forget you were only a slave whenever he possessed you.

You took a clean cloth and soaked it with fresh water to wash his face. He wasn't as dirty as yesterday when they brought him in, but you enjoyed every little contact with his tanned skin. You also cleaned his hair, longer than usual after all these months far from home, and you tangled your fingers inside his long curls, caressing his head and playing with his hair. You finished washing the rest of his body as well.

You knew it was not proper, but you couldn't avoid seizing the chance of feeling him. You’d like to be able to touch him, caress him, hug him, kiss him… But you knew you’re just a slave, you didn't even have the right to look at him. And you should be thankful that a man like master Martius had ever set his eyes on someone like you, even if it was just to release his lust with you. You couldn’t ask for more than that. The pain inside you came out as a deep sigh.

You took out the bandage of his neck, checking the injury again. It looked better than yesterday, and it did not smell like rotten flesh, which was a good sign. Anyway, you cleaned it again. Pouring some vinegar over it, you heard him groaning, his neck and chest tightening, though he did not move. You smiled at this little improvement, and silently thanked the Goddess for her help. After preparing the balm, you applied it over the wound and covered it again with a clean strip of cloth that crossed his chest, tying the knots with care.

Now you had to check the other injuries. Uncovering them, you saw that they also looked better than the day before. In fact, the lighter one could be left uncovered already. The other one would take a little longer, but it was not likely to rotten now. You’d you your best to avoid it. Once the wounds were uncovered, you cleaned them again with fresh water, and you saw the goose bumps in his skin at the contact of the cold water with his groin, and when you poured vinegar over the wounds, not only he groaned, but he also said some words, speaking between his teeth and slurring words.

“Are you… trying… to kill me… woman…?”

You smiled to yourself while you answered him.

“No, master. I’m sorry, master, but it has to be done.”

He did not say another word, so you went on with your duty, spreading the balm over the wound and covering it again with clean clothes. He soon fell asleep, and finally he could rest quietly, no stirrings or fever bothering him.

You sat by the bed, and said a prayer to the Gods. You did not remember having fallen asleep, but you felt your head resting on something soft, and something stirred under you. As soon as you opened your eyes, you stood up, realizing you had fallen asleep over your master’s belly. He was now awake, his shaft was hard as a rock, and you heard him moaning quietly. He looked at you, took your hand and brought it to his groin. There was no need for words. Even if you could have said no, you wouldn’t have. You adoration for your master was both physical and spiritual, and your physical need for him was endless.

You held his gaze while you slid your hand up and down his hard cock, slowly at first, enjoying his warmth, his twitches, the sounds coming from his throat, his body tightening under your touch when you started stroking him faster.

It was late, and you were sure no one would enter the room at this time of the night, but just in case, you walked around the bed, placing your body between him and the door, so no one could see what was happening. You slid one hand from his knee to his groin, slowly, letting your nails draw red lines all the way up, while your other hand did the same from his chest to his belly. At the same time, you took him in your mouth, all you could take of him, because of his size, and it made him arch his body over the bed, letting go a deep groan that went directly between your legs. Your wetness was sliding down your thighs by then, and you pressed them together, trying to get some release.

He must have felt it, because he slid his hand under your tunic, finding you wet for him. He pushed one of his strong fingers inside you, and this time it was you the one moaning in pleasure, feeling your legs weakening.

“Ride me.” That was an order you would never argue. You went up the bed, raising your tunic while you straddled him.

“Take that off. I want to see you.” You raised your tunic over your head, and threw it to the floor. The fresh air coming from the open windows clashed with the heat of your skin, and you felt your nipples hardening and your skin filling with goose bumps. His cock was completely hard, resting over his belly. You placed your sex over it, carefully avoiding the bandage on his left thigh, and you started moving your hips back and forth, rubbing his cock and coating it with your juices as your pleasured yourself with him. He was not going to allow you to do it much longer, and you saw it in his face, so you raised your hips up and placed it on your entrance, letting your body slowly fall down on him, letting his hardness fill you, until he was fully sheathed within you. You heard and felt his deep groan inside your bones, and it made your sex throb with pleasure as you stood there, quiet as a stone, making the need for friction grow painfully between you both. You put your hands over his chest, bracing yourself as you started slowly rocking your hips back and forth. He brought his hands towards yours, twining your fingers together and locking his eyes on yours for a few moments. That was almost… tender? No, you must have imagined it.

He then cupped your generous breasts with his hands, stroking them, increasing your pleasure, until you could take it no more and started riding him faster, letting him get out of you just to fall down on him again, deeper, and faster. He grabbed your hips with all his strength, bent his knees and braced his feet on the bed so he could pump deeper upwards, lifting you with every thrust, hitting every inch of your insides.

He was breathing heavily, moaning with every thrust, and he was as close as you. You helped him following his rhythm, increasing the depth of his thrusts, until you felt your pleasure filling you, clenching around him. He arched his back and in one hard push he finished inside you, collapsing over the bed, sweating and trying to recover his breath. You kept him inside you until his cock softened and his breath relaxed. He fell asleep soon after, and you took the chance for cleaning him again after you had somehow washed yourself.

You were tired, too, so you fell asleep in your chair as soon as you sat there, and you woke up the next morning feeling his hand grabbing yours.


	3. Chapter 3

Flavia took away her hand from his grasp before someone entered the room and saw it, as she tried to understand what it meant. Why did he grab her hand while sleeping? She thought that probably he was having a bad dream and he was grabbing his sword in a battle. Because master Martius was not a tender person; he did not like people most of the time, and Flavia wouldn’t even be considered as “people”, being just a slave.

“ _Forget about that, you fool_ ”, she thought to herself.

She stood up, checking if he was ok. His breathing was smooth and even, and his skin was just warm, so Flavia left the room quietly to wash herself and change her tunic, and stopped in the kitchen to grab some food. Since she had been taking care of the master, she had only taken some bread, and the smell that came from the kitchen made her stomach growl with hunger. But she did not have time to eat.

She took a look at Claudia, and asked her for the master’s breakfast. She gestured at Flavia to take whatever she wanted, so she grabbed a piece of recently baked bread and some leftovers of roasted game from yesterday, and put them in a tray, with some spiced wine, a bowl of figs and a piece of hard bread (for her), and she took it to the master’s room. He’d be hungry when he’d wake up.

When she was reaching his room, she heard him shouting her name. Terrified, she ran through the corridor, struggling to keep the contents of the tray in place. Once she arrived, she saw him sitting on the edge of the bed, sweating, and trying to stand up, though she knew the injury on his thigh would not allow his leg to sustain him. She left the trail on the nearest table and run to him, trying to keep him from standing up.

“I’m here, master. Don’t stand up. Your leg is not yet healed and the injury could bleed again.” She tried to stop him, though she knew there would be no way she could stop him if he wanted to do it. He was far stronger than her.

“Where were you? You should have been here.” His voice sounded deeper than usual, as if he was really angry, though she could not tell if he was angry with her, with the Gods, or with the injuries that kept him tied to his bed.

Flavia helped him lying in bed again, and tried to explain. “I went to change my clothes and then I went for some food for you, master. You must be hungry.”

She helped him sitting up in bed and gave him the trail with food and wine. While he ate, she busied herself trying to clean up the room. She always felt bad having to spend days in that room caring for her master, while the rest of the servants had to struggle to add her work to their already excessive tasks.

Flavia woke up confused in her own bug-ridden mat, in the room she shared with Claudia and the other female slaves. She did not know what had happened. How did she arrive here? She tried to stand up, but she felt weak and dizzy, and had to lie down again.

Then she saw Claudia entering the room with a trail of food.

“How are you feeling? You fainted in the master’s room this morning.” She left the trail near her mat.

“This morning? What time is it? How did I get here? I don’t remember anything…” She tried to remember, but the only thing that came to her mind was her trying to clean the room. Then, everything went black.

“The sun is about to set now, and I was ordered to bring you some food. It seems you haven’t eaten properly since the master arrived. When you fainted, master Martius called for help and ordered Petronius to bring you here, so you could rest. Mistress Volumnia ordered me to bring the food. She was not happy at all.”

“Oh, no. I have to change his bandages and check his wounds. Was she very upset? I have to go. I don’t want to be punished.” Flavia was terrified. Some sweat drops fell from her temples, her heart was fighting for getting out of her chest, and her hands trembled uncontrollably. Having experienced how some of their slaves were punished, she thought she’d rather die than go through that.

Flavia took some fruit from the tray, ate it in one gulp and stood up. She didn’t even thank Claudia for the food, and soon she was at his door again. She poked her head inside the room and saw that he was lying in bed alone. He was covering his face with his left arm, and he looked worried. Taking a deep breath, and still trembling with fear, she entered the room, asking the Gods to help her staying conscious, and hoping her master would not be very angry with her.

“What are you doing here?” His harsh voice startled her. “You should be resting if you want to be of any help.”

“I’m sorry, master. I already had some rest and I ate some fruit. I’m feeling much better now. Besides, I must take care of your wounds.” Her body had stiffened at the sound of his voice, and she did not dare to make eye contact with him. His fury was well known by everyone in the house, and no one wanted to taste it in their own flesh.

“Very well. But after you’ve finished, you’ll leave until tomorrow morning.”

“Yes, master, as you wish.”

Flavia relaxed a little, and tried to focus on her master’s wounds. Now that he was awake, she had to be more careful, and avoid looking at him, or touching him more than necessary. Unless he asked for it, of course. She was dying for touching him again, and having him inside her, but he seemed worried, anxious, and did not ask for it. Maybe he had received news of another battle, and he felt frustrated, having to be resting at home while others won the honours.

She had almost finished changing the bandages of his left thigh, when he stopped her.

“Enough. Leave now.” He dismissed Flavia waving his hand at her.

She found strange that, since she came back, he hadn’t even looked at her once. Most of the times he looked at her as if she was a piece of fresh meat in front of a hungry wolf, and sometimes he was even able to control his lust. But today, he barely noticed her.

She still had to tie the bandages, so she tried to warn him. “But master, I haven’t finished yet.”

“I told you to leave!” He screamed at the top of his lungs, and this time he really looked at her. If looks could kill, she would have died a thousand times in that instant. Flavia left the room running, flushed, and went directly to the servant’s bedroom. She curled in her mat until her heart stopped pounding against her chest and she finally fell asleep.

Meanwhile, in his room, Martius was feeling like a caged lion, torn between the loyalty, gratitude and respect for his mother, and his own desires, unknown by anyone except himself.

His mother’s visit that afternoon had done nothing but stressing him out. He knew what was expected of him, of course, and he also knew that he could not deny a single one of his adored mother’s wishes. But he felt he was not ready to marry. Not yet. Even with the beautiful and noble Virgilia. His only love had always been fighting to defend his beloved Rome from its enemies.

Or so he had thought until today. She was the only one who really cared for him. His mother? Well, she loved him, for sure, but her biggest gladness and delight lied in watching him crowned with a collection of oaken garlands, and full of scars to prove his value. She would feel the same if it was achieved by any of his brothers.

But she… The way she looked at him, her hands, the plethora of feelings that threatened to overwhelm him every time she touched his skin, the way she played with his hair when she thought he was in Morpheus’ arms, the care and tenderness she employed to heal his wounds, her attempts to hide a smile after he had possessed her, the feeling of calmness she gave him whenever she was near…

When he saw her faint, unable to reach her on time because of his damn wounds, he knew it. And something broke inside him when he saw her lying there, lifeless, at the mercy of the Gods.

He loved her. And he needed her. But he could never have her. Even if he would grant her freedom, he’d never be able to marry her, and that hurt more than a thousand wounds.

The angst grew inside him until it radiated from every inch of him. He groaned, he broke every piece of pottery in the room, threw a chair against a wall, smashing it in pieces, and growled at anyone who dared entering the room to see what happened. Finally, exhausted and aching, he lied in bed again. No matter how hard he tried to fight it, he already knew the answer, and thus, his decision was made. He had to marry Virgilia, but he would not give up on Flavia. She was his, and she’ll always be.


	4. Chapter 4

Flavia tried to run, but her wrists were tied, as well as her ankles. Terrified, she found out that she could barely move. Looking around her, she could only see mistress Volumnia’s anger, the rest of the servants’ contempt, and worst of all, her master Martius’ disappointment. She knew her fate, she had seen it before, and she knew she could not survive it. She did not want to die. Not like that. She begged, she cried, she pled to the Gods, she swore she’d never do it again, but everything was in vain. She could only see mistress Volumnia’s smile and her master’s angry face when he said: “Thirty lashes! That way we’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

The first slash hit her back. Her skin burnt, and a sharp pain invaded her whole body, bringing tears to her eyes. She felt something breaking inside her with the second one; the pain was so strong that she could not even scream. With the third one, she felt the lash ripping off her skin. Every strip of the lash left an indelible print, not only in her skin, but also in her soul. After the fifth lash, she did not feel more physical pain, everything became blurred, and she felt her heart breaking when she saw her master turning around and abandoning her to the mercy of the Gods. He had no mercy left for her, and it hurt more than the lashes. Then, everything went black.

She woke up crying, sweating, unable to control the hard and fast pounding of her heart inside her chest, and struggling to breathe. Every time she tried to go back to sleep, the nightmare came back, so, after checking she had not awakened the rest of the servants with her screams, she decided to go outside and feel some fresh air. She put on her cloak, the sandals and left the room. Despite the early hour, she made sure that no one saw her and she headed towards the gardens.

Those gardens were her favourite place of the entire house. Of course, being a slave, she could not enjoy them during the day, unless she had to leave the house for some errand, and even then, she knew she wasn’t allowed to delay there, but at night, whenever she could not sleep, Flavia loved to venture inside them, knowing that no one would see her at those late hours.

She sat in the farthest bench, trying to recover herself from the nightmare. She lost track of time, and when she saw the first light of sunrise, she noticed she had been crying. Flavia wiped away the tears from her face, and looked around, feeling that someone was around. She froze when she saw her master Martius looking at her from the window of his room. There was not enough light to see the expression on his face, but she was certain he would not like her being there, and she had already upset him enough for one day, so she covered her face with the hood, and run towards her cubiculum as fast as she could, praying for the benevolence of the Gods and her master towards her.

After her morning ablutions, the time came when Flavia had to check on her master Martius’ injuries, and she was dreading it, but it could not be postponed anymore. She would have to face him sooner or later, so she picked up all her courage and, still trembling with fear, she entered his room.

Flavia found him looking through the window. She cleared her throat to let him know she was already there, but he did not move.

“Master?” She approached him carefully, trying to catch his attention.

He turned around surprised, as if he didn’t expect to find anyone here. “Ah, it’s you.” He moved towards the bed, and sat on its edge, taking off his tunic and untying the bandage in his thigh to save her some time. Martius was lost in his own thoughts, undoing the bandage mechanically, as he had done so many times before.

Flavia placed her box in a chair near the bed as he lied there, silent, ready for her to clean the wounds. She had never felt like this before, startling with every move her master made, as if she expected him to hurt her at any moment. She focused on the wounds. Any other man would have died by these wounds, and it’d have taken a long time for them to heal, but Martius was different. His body healed the wounds faster than seemed possible, and she knew that in a few days he’d be ready to fight again.

Once she had finished, he sat suddenly on the edge of the bed, startling her. She closed her eyes, and started trembling, terrified. Martius grabbed her wrist, and she broke down in tears.

“Please, master, don’t hurt me! It won’t happen again, please. I…” She was sobbing, unable to hold back the tears now.

He was astonished. He cupped her face with his hand, but still, she did not open her eyes. “Flavia, what are you talking about? Look at me.” He raised her face towards his, and wiped away the tears with his thumb.

She opened her eyes, and found him staring at her with a look of surprise in his face, questioning her.

“I… I didn’t want to faint, master. I did not know what happened. And then you were mad at me, and you yelled… and the dream… the lashes… and the garden… I don’t want to die, please…” She couldn’t stop crying and trembling, and Martius caught her by the waist before she collapsed to the floor.

Martius wrapped her tightly between his arms, pulling her against his body. “Hurt you”? In the name of the Gods, how could I even dare to cause any harm to that whom I owe my life to? My dear mother gave me my life, but you have brought me back from a certain death, Flavia, and I cannot forget that.”

He took her chin and leant her head back, making her look at him. He never knew how to talk to her, and he cursed himself for it. If only he could make her believe him… Martius tried again.

 “Don’t ever think I would willingly hurt you. I…”

Flavia had stopped crying, and was staring at him, looking into his eyes, trying to believe him. She closed her eyes again, and she felt his lips lightly brushing her mouth. He had never kissed her like that before. He was always aggressive, passionate, careless, full of lust and need, but this kiss was careful and tender, and took her fear and her breath away. Their lips parted, and she opened her eyes to meet his blue eyes darkening, and his breathing heavier. She knew that look, and she rejoiced in the anticipation of what she knew would come next.

But instead of having her there and then, Martius started nuzzling her neck, breathing heavily over her skin, sending a shiver through her whole body as his fingers slid her tunic down her arms until it lied on the floor, pooling around her feet.

He took one of her hands and brought it to his lips, kissing the back, and the palm, and then, doing the same to her other hand before leaning his face towards it, feeling her warmth over his skin. His fingers drew the outline of her arms, barely touching her skin, and she felt her insides melting under his touch when he reached her breasts and cupped them in his hands as he kissed her again. Flavia felt his tongue tenderly entering her mouth and moaned, demanding more of it. He kissed her deeper, pulling her body towards his and pressing his erection against her belly. Martius couldn’t hold back a deep moan when Flavia slid her hands through his back, wrapping his body to keep him closer.

Martius turned her around, wrapped one arm around her breasts, pressing her back against his chest, and let his free hand roam over her body until he reached her sex. His fingers found her wetness, and he slid one finger inside her, and then a second one, and she ground her hips against him instinctively. He kept on moving his fingers inside and out of her, while he slid his cock between her thighs, his thrusts matching the movement of his fingers.

Flavia abandoned herself in his arms, overwhelmed by the waves of pleasure that were invading her whole body, and every one of her moans increased the arousal in Martius. He felt the urge of being inside her, so he took his fingers out, and, with a deep groan, he slid his cock inside her in an agonizingly slow movement, relishing in the way her body received him. Martius wrapped his arms around her, bending their bodies together in a perfect cocoon, and stood still, filling her, until he could not wait any longer. He started with deep and slow thrusts, but Flavia needed more, and she squirmed and whined, and thrust back, begging for more.

He soon obliged, unable to control himself anymore. He started pushing faster, and deeper, burying his groans in her neck. Flavia felt her sex throbbing, and she came around him with a muffled cry, dragging him into his own release. Martius shared a breathless kiss with her and held her in his arms until he finally slid out of her, softened.

Even though her legs were still trembling and barely supporting her, Flavia tried to leave his embrace to get dressed, but he would not let her go.

“Master, please… I have to go. I’ve delayed my duties for too long already.”

Martius then became aware of the world outside. Of course she had to leave. As much as he needed to, he couldn’t monopolize her, so he reluctantly let her go, with a nod. Flavia observed him while they got dressed, but could not understand what was happening to him. He went from absent and worried, to angry, and then to gentle and absent again. He seemed to be a different man, tormented. But as much as she wanted to ask him or help him, it was far beyond her attributions in every sense, so she stood silent while she put on her tunic.

When Flavia turned around to leave the room, she almost bumped into Volumnia, who was entering the room in that same instant. Flavia mumbled some apologies and walked towards the door, but Volumnia did not seem to notice her. She was too cheerful to worry about Flavia.

“My dear Martius, make yourself ready. Your betrothed, Virgilia and her noble parents are here to enquire about your health. Make haste, and do not make them wait. And by all the Gods, erase that sadness from your face that so ill becomes you, and show them the happiness this engagement will bring to our blessed house.”

Flavia stopped by the door, frozen after hearing mistress Volumnia’s words. She felt a twinge of pain, but she did not move. Had she looked back, she’d have found a shadow of guilt in the worried look Martius was directing at her. But she did not look back.

Volumnia then noticed her. “By all the Gods, Flavia, you’re livid! You are not going to faint again, are you? Anyway, I think you should fix those bandages. They are so tiny that they would convince no one that he has been badly hurt at all. And we all know how good some wounds become to men in the eyes of women.” She grinned at her son before she continued prattling on about wounds and war and scars.

Flavia let go a deep sigh, and went back to her master, to add some unnecessary bandages, and despite the sharp pain she knew she had no right to feel, she tried to focus in her task, avoiding his gaze. She thought about the kind of life that awaited her once her master would marry and leave the house -and her- forever. And she did not like it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flavia has just known that her master Martius is going to get married. How is that going to affect her?

Flavia left her master’s room with an unsettling feeling in her guts. He was to get married. He would leave this house, and she would have to stay here. She wouldn’t see him anymore. She run back to the kitchen blinking back tears and holding her belly in her hands, as if that useless gesture would calm the pain that was stabbing her insides.

  
“Of course he has to get married.” Claudia cried with her trilling voice as the old cook prepared the trail with the food Flavia had to bring for the unexpected guests. “He’s been the head of the family since his father’s death, and this family needs a good marriage and heirs, to keep their properties.”

  
She kept on gossiping, as it was one of her favourite activities. “If, the Gods forbid it, master Martius were to die in battle, they’d lose everything, child, and that’s not something mistress Volumnia would allow.” She gestured Flavia to get closer to her, and kept on talking in whispers. “Mistress Volumnia and Virgilia’s parents arranged their marriage when she was only fourteen. They come from a good family, with many properties in Rome and some cottages in the country, or so they say. And I’ve heard she’s a beautiful young lady now.”

  
She straightened herself to remove the stew. “He should marry as soon as possible, because he’s a reckless young man who won’t step back from a battle, as you well know, and they should do it before another wealthy man reclaims her first.”

  
“But… what if he doesn’t love her? What if she doesn’t like him?” Flavia did not know much about wealthy patrician’s ways, but Claudia talked as if marriage was a business.

  
“Love? Like? What does it have to do with marriage? She will stop being a burden for her parents, and will gain the protection of an important man. And he will get some heirs that will inherit his properties. If the Gods favour them, they’ll grow some affection for each other in time, but that’s all.” Claudia gave her a disdainful look. “I’d always thought Minerva had blessed you with some wits, Flavia, but sometimes you make me doubt it.” She let go a deep sigh and went back to her pots.

  
Flavia took the trail of fruit and sweets, and brought them to the atrium, thinking they would receive the guests there, but midway she heard loud voices and laughs coming from the triclinium, so she headed there. She felt her belly flutter, full of anxiety. Mistress Volumnia had said she was there. What would she look like? Would she be as pretty as Claudia said? Would he like her? Would the fickle Cupid throw his arrows at them?

  
Suddenly she did not want to enter the room. Those laughs hurt her ears. She didn’t want to see her, to see him, to witness their happiness when it would mean another end of her little world. First it was her parent’s death, leaving her alone in the world at the age of seven. Then someone sold her as a slave to the good doctor Paion and his family, in Antium. She lived there happily for more than ten years, learning to heal, until he was accidentally killed in battle. She burst in tears when the soldiers brought his dead body to the tent where she was helping him with the wounded, knowing she couldn’t do anything for him once the Gods had decided to bring him to the Elysian fields. Then, the roman soldiers razed everything and everyone, and they only kept the healthy slaves, which were shared between the bravest soldiers, and that’s how she had ended in master Martius’ house. It had been hard at first, because she had never have to work this hard before, but once she got used to the ways of this house, everything was as well as it could for a slave. And then she started helping him heal, and… She felt a lump in her throat, and wondered why every time she found something like happiness in a place the Gods snatched it away from her. Maybe she did not deserve it; maybe slaves are not meant to be happy.

  
Then, something hit her, and she came back from her thoughts. Petronius was leaving the room with the already empty jars of wine, and he pushed her inside the room, exasperated.

  
Flavia lowered her head, embarrassed, and entered the room with the trail in her hands. Once she was there, she could not avoid looking at Virgilia when she approached to offer them some food. She was standing near him, a slim girl, about eighteen years old, with plain breast and broad hips, dressed in a white tunic and a sky blue stola than hung graciously to her feet. Her blonde hair was beautifully braided over her head, but a rebel lock escaped the elaborated bun and hung loose over her angelical face. Virgilia was trying to focus on what mistress Volumnia was saying, but Flavia noticed she was subtly looking at her betrothed with a frown.

  
“My dear mother” Martius interrupted her, trying to put a smile on his face with little success. “Pray, don’t tire our guests with those stories about my wounds and battles. I’m sure there are far more pleasant things to talk about.” He retired to one corner to refill his cup with wine, and he groaned frustrated when he found himself unable to hold the heavy jar without pain.

  
As Volumnia kept on prattling about his wounds, soldiers and oaken garlands, not noticing the boredom in her guests’ faces, Flavia moved silently to the corner of the room, and leaving the trail with fruit on the table, she took the jar from her master’s hands.

  
“Allow me, master.” She took the heavy jar and filled his cup, avoiding his gaze. She offered him the cup and his fingers lightly brushed hers when he took it from her hand. Flavia gasped at the unexpected contact, and she almost dropped the cup, but he was fast, and caught it before the wine fell to the floor, thus avoiding calling anyone’s attention.

  
Flavia took the trail again and placed it on the table located in the middle of the room, so they could help themselves with the food, and then she left the room until she was needed again. She went towards the kitchen, unsettled, caressing the tiny spot where his fingers had touched her, until Claudia found her and dragged her inside the kitchen as she overwhelmed Flavia with all her questions.

  
“Did you see her? Is she as beautiful as they say? How was she dressed? When will the wedding take place? Oh, for all the Gods, Flavia, tell me something!” She didn’t stop chopping vegetables and removing pots as she talked.

  
It wasn’t Flavia’s favourite topic, obviously, but she could not avoid it without looking suspicious, so she tried to answer as enthusiastically as she could. “She’s very young, and beautiful. She’s blonde, well-proportioned and she is wearing a white tunic with a blue stola that covers her completely. I’m sure the master will like her.”

  
Flavia rubbed furiously the pot she was trying to clean, in a vain attempt to hide her feelings. She thought again why some people could be so blessed by the Gods. That girl was rich, beautiful and was going to marry Martius. And yet, Virgilia looked at him as if she was trying to find something likeable in him.

  
He was older than Virgilia, of course, but not that much. He was still young and handsome, but mostly he was strong, decided and powerful. It was true that he did not like people very much, being incapable of acting, or accommodating his humours to others, excepting his mother, and maybe the good Menenius, and he was also passionate, vehement and impulsive, but she thought that Virgilia could not possibly have faced this side of him yet, not on her at least, and Flavia could not find a reason for Virgilia not liking him.

  
“Damn rich girl… May the Gods curse her with… stinky breath and bad teeth…” She was murmuring to herself as she rubbed the pot harder, feeling a little bad for having cursed her.

  
“If you keep on rubbing it like that you’ll wear it out, and I’m not sure you can pay for another one, so take it easy, child.” Claudia was looking at her, clearly amused, but if Flavia would have looked at her then, she would have seen some curiosity on Claudia’s look. “What’s with you anyway? You’re not yourself these days.”

  
Luckily for Flavia, Petronius entered the kitchen with a command for her before she could answer. “You’re requested in the triclinium again.”

  
She left the kitchen, relieved, and walked distractedly when someone grabbed her from behind; one arm held her waist, and a big, strong hand, covered her mouth, muffling her screams as she was dragged towards the storage room near the kitchen.

  
She struggled against her captor, and managed to hit him in the upper chest, eliciting a loud grunt from him. She then felt, more than heard her captor’s shush right behind her ear, and she relaxed immediately, recognizing the owner of that voice and that scent.

  
Flavia did not expect he could leave his guests so soon; they had come to see him, after all, but he did not seem to care.

  
Martius held her tighter against his body as his hard cock twitched between their bodies. “Having to bear that insipid bunch of boring double-faced flatterers while you are walking around the room is driving me crazy, woman. So I have to do something about it right now.”

  
He turned her around, facing him, and pushed her against the shelves full of olive oil jars as his hands grabbed her thigh under her tunic and his mouth found a place to stay behind her ear, inhaling her sweet scent. Flavia felt her skin burning under his touch, melting and dripping between her legs, and she extended her arms to her sides, grabbing the edge of the shelves to help her standing up as her voice turned into a tremulous thread of barely audible moans. “But she…” She knew she shouldn’t dare to mention her, but those kisses over her skin made her forget about propriety.

  
He suddenly broke the kiss, and pointing a finger at her, he furrowed his brow. “Don’t. Don’t say it.” He stared at her, and she saw anger and pain inside his eyes. “Not you.” He held her nape and roughly pulling her head against his, he shut her with a deep, urgent kiss. Flavia got lost in his mouth, tasting the fruit and wine in his lips that elicited deep moans from her as his hand caressed the inside of her thigh. She writhed, and whined, burning with need. She needed his touch, but most of all, she needed him inside her.

  
Ignoring the part of her mind that was telling her to wait until he’d make another move, Flavia slid her hand under his tunic, and untying his loincloth, grabbed his already hard cock and stroke it; slowly at first, but soon she sped her movements up, matching the moves of his fingers inside her. Martius buried his face in the crook of her neck moaning under her touch, struggling to keep control as they pleasured each other, until he couldn’t wait any longer, and, grabbing her right thigh, he lifted it to his waist and slid inside her in a deep hard thrust.

  
Martius stood still for some seconds, rejoicing in the feeling of sliding into her, so warm, wet, and tight, feeling a wave of pleasure spreading through his whole being that left his legs trembling. He had to use his right hand to grab the edge of the shelf to avoid falling to the floor, and he suddenly felt a stinging pain in his neck’s injury. Flavia felt his body stiffening and instinctively wrapped her arms around him tightly. She opened her mouth to ask if he needed to stop and rest, but before she could say a word he started thrusting deep and hard, and she lost her mind in the feeling. Flavia held to his body for dear life, scratching his back with her broken nails as her back hit the shelf with every thrust of his hips.

  
Flavia tried to keep her moans as quiet as possible, without any success, so Martius kissed her again, allowing her to cry inside his mouth to muffle the sounds. He kept thrusting faster and harder, pinning her to the shelves, and she was sure her back would be full of bruises, but she did not care. She only wanted him to go deeper inside her, as if that was even possible.

  
Her moans were getting louder as the pleasure grew inside her, and Martius covered her mouth with his hand before someone heard them. He started to lose control when Flavia screamed in his mouth as her whole body clenched around him, and he came inside her as he buried a guttural growl against her skin.

  
They stood in silence for a while, breathing heavily as they tried to recover themselves. Once they had calmed down somehow, they rearranged their clothes. Martius looked at her again, and he took a stray lock of hair that had stuck to her sweaty forehead and pulled it back in place as he whispered in her ear. “What have you done to me?” His lips were just an inch apart from hers, and it took all his will power not to kiss her again.

  
He turned around and left the room, furiously hitting the wall as he left. He walked inside the indoor garden, trying to hide from their guests, to find some moments to think about how his life was going to change soon, and how, as much as he wanted to, he could not find a way to fit Flavia in it. He hit his head, frustrated, as if that would help him finding a way.

  
Then, he heard someone calling him, bringing him back from his thoughts.

  
“Martius! Oh, dear Gods, there you are. Where have you been? Come with me, my dear son. You can’t neglect your future wife like this. Besides, we have to fix the details of the wedding now that our new family is here.” Volumnia was so happy about it that he could only roll his eyes, exasperated, and follow her, praying that this long day would end soon.

  
Flavia was still hiding inside the storage room, waiting for her legs to stop trembling as she thought about what had happened. What had she done to him? What did he mean? Had she done something wrong? No, she was sure now she hadn’t done anything to upset him. But he looked hurt, tortured. Was it possible that he…? No. Those things didn’t happen. She was nothing but an entertainment to him. She shook that thought from her head and decided that she didn’t want to know the meaning of this, of him, of everything.

  
She was happy to have small pieces of him, and thanked the Gods because those moments were more than she had ever expected. And for just one second, she allowed herself to think that maybe the Gods hadn’t forgotten about her after all.


	6. Chapter 6

Martius was an exceptionally strong man, and his injuries were soon healed, leaving only a few scars that “decorated his blessed body as a happy reminder of his valour” as his mother proudly told whomever was so close as to hear her prattling about it. 

Thus, the wedding plans went on. The house was boiling with activity, and it kept Flavia too busy to think about it, least of all to mourn about it. In two days the engagement ceremony would take place, and then, there would be no turning back. After the wedding, they would go to their new home, and she wouldn’t see him again. Ten days until another unwanted change in her insignificant life. Flavia felt her stomach clenching, and, blinking back the tears, she kept on furiously plucking the pheasants. When there were no more feathers to remove, she started kneading the poppy seed rolls. It was obvious for everyone who watched Flavia today that something was bothering her, but they all knew she would not talk about it, reserved as she was, so as long as it wouldn’t affect her duties, they’d just let her vent whatever was bothering her.

The last two days had passed quickly between cleaning and cooking, and the big moment had arrived. Volumnia and Martius were reunited with Virgilia and her parents, Licinius and Livia, establishing the dowry and the conditions of the wedding agreement before signing the marriage contract. Flavia was bringing the trails with food from the kitchen to the triclinium, where they would be celebrating afterwards with a big meal, though the great public celebration would take place in a few more days.

She walked by the back side of the atrium so that she would not disturb them. After she disposed the trails on the dining table, she went back to the kitchen again, but this time she stopped behind a column and dared taking a look at what was happening in the atrium. She leaned towards the column, wrapping it with one hand as she rested the side of her face on it, trying to hide as much as she could.

Licinius was laughing loudly and embraced Volumnia, who turned around to hug Livia soon after. It seemed they had reached an agreement. After a few moments of joy, they all signed some papers, and then they stood up, watching the young couple. Martius wore a white toga over the tunic, outlining his tall muscled body with a red leather belt. Virgilia, dressed in a white tunic and stola, and a sky blue palla covering her braided blond hair, had a panicked look on her face, and she seemed to be shrinking by his side, looking even smaller than she really was. They were standing side by side, sharing awkward looks from time to time, until the time came.

Livia could barely hold the tears as Martius took Virgilia’s left hand. He stood there, holding her tiny hand in his. Externally, he looked like a moved groom, taking some time to admire his beautiful bride. But what no one knew was that he only wanted to get out of there and forget about that marriage; recover his normal life, not taking care of a young girl who could barely hold his gaze without a panicked look on her face, but training and fighting, and… going back to Flavia instead. He let go a deep sigh as he thought about her, the only woman that had ever made him shiver with desire and need, and could calm him and send him to heaven with just a slight touch of her blessed hands. 

He tried to remember again why he was doing this, when he saw someone moving behind Virgilia. He looked there, just to see his mother signalling her own finger.

“The ring! The ring!” She was whispering, thinking he had forgotten what came next. He hadn’t forgotten, of course. How could he? He just didn’t want to. But one look at his dear mother’s face reminded him why he was doing this. He had to do it for her, because he needed to give his mother the security she deserved after his father’s death, because she had personally chosen this girl for him, and because he wanted to make her happy, even if it meant him being unhappy. Having seen so many good men and friends die in battle, he knew that the Gods were very busy to be troubled with human’s needs, and so he did not even care praying for it. He had learnt long ago that if a man wants something, he has to fight for it. And he still hadn’t figure how, but he knew he’d fight for Flavia.

Martius gave his mother a nod and a tiny smile and taking the iron ring between his fingers, he took a deep breath and with a trembling hand, he struggled to slide it in Virgilia’s finger. His fate was sealed now. Even if he didn’t love this young girl, he would respect her, and take care of her as well as he could. Maybe in time, with some help from the Gods, he would grow some affection for her, but not love. He could never love her. 

Now there was only one more thing for him to do. He cupped Virgilia’s face in his hands and raising her chin as sweetly as he could, he leaned forward, gingerly kissing her lips, thus sealing the marriage definitely with that simple gesture. Virgilia blushed, and searched nervously for her mother’s eyes, not knowing what was expected of her next. He unconsciously thought how different this innocent kiss had been from those warm and passionate kisses he craved every day from Flavia’s lips.

Martius raised his head, letting his eyes wander around the atrium of the house that held the memories of his whole life. Soon this place would receive him as a stranger, and he tried to treasure every moment inside his mind. And then he saw her. Flavia was hiding behind a column, holding to it with one arm, as she wiped away her tears with the other one. He locked his eyes on hers, and he shed bitter tears with her as he silently cursed the Gods wondering what they had done to deserve this fate. 

Soon his thoughts were interrupted, as their parents and the friends that had acted as witnesses were by their side, congratulating the newlywed couple, and, while they started sharing ideas for the public celebration the next Venus day, Martius heard a distant voice calling Flavia from the kitchen. His spirit sunk when he met again the sad look in her eyes as she turned around and run towards the kitchen.

Flavia wiped her tears while she went back to the kitchen, unsure if someone other than master Martius had seen her sneaking around. He did not seem to get mad at her for watching, which was strange, knowing him, though he was probably overwhelmed with the emotion of the ceremony, or maybe he just wanted to be calm on his wedding day. She thought about him. She may had thought how it would feel to be the one receiving that ring and that kiss, but instead, she had felt her heart breaking a little when he put the ring on Virgilia’s finger and kissed her. She would miss him when he’d leave, but at least, she could hold on to her memories of him; his musky smell, his strong arms holding her, his big, calloused hands touching her body, how he possessed her...  He hadn’t left yet and it already hurt. 

She let go a deep sigh, and entered the kitchen again. Surely Claudia would be mad at her for delaying, having so many things to bring to the triclinium for dinner. She straightened herself up and, avoiding Claudia’s enquiring gaze, took a couple of big trails and left the kitchen as fast as she could manage.

The guests had already entered the triclinium, and they were gathering around the wine, drinking to the bride and groom as the last trails of food were being placed on the table before they all sat down and eat. Flavia was rearranging things, keeping her gaze in the table, trying to isolate herself for the feeling of joy that filled the room, so she missed the glances Martius directed at her, unable to look anywhere else.

Martius could not take his eyes off of Flavia. She was not a beautiful woman according to the roman standards, though he loved everything about her; her elegant and gracious movements, the dark olive colour of her skin highlighted by the light tunics she wore, the long and naturally curled black hair she always struggled to keep in place, the fullness of her breasts, so vulgar and unattractive in other women, but mesmerizing to him; her hands, so soft and strong at the same time, capable of putting a broken bone in place and heating him up with just a touch, and her face, though having a bigger nose than was considered attractive, her eyes, black as the night, were full of compassion, and the incipient wrinkles around them told stories he so desired to learn, so did those full lips he craved every second she was around him. But most of all, he loved her smile, that elusive feature that lighted up her face, though so scarcely shown. 

He remembered the first time he had witnessed that full bright smile. It had been a busy day for him, sword training with Titus Lartius at the back of the house for hours, and defeating him in every possible way, leaving him with a good feeling before the campaign against the Tarquins. They finished the training because of a sudden summer storm, and he rushed inside the house after Titus Lartius excused himself and left. He had entered the house exhausted after the long exertion, when he saw her in the garden, dancing barefoot as the rain soaked her hair and her white clothes stuck to every curve of her body while she spun around in place, thinking nobody would be outside under the rain to see her among the hedges. Dark rain clouds had covered the sun, wrapping the house in a sudden darkness, only broken by the light emanating from Flavia. He walked around the place, trying to go unnoticed as he looked for a better place to behold her, and he felt his shaft hardening as his gaze lingered in the round shape of her breasts and her broad hips, clearly visible under her wet garments. 

Martius couldn’t stand it anymore, and walking towards the centre of the clearing, he stopped in front of her, and dropping the shield and the sword, he pushed aside the wild locks of hair stuck on her face, sliding his hand down her neck and her arms, until he let it rest on the small of her back. She gasped when he lifted her easily from the ground and walked forward until her back touched one of the young cypress trees. She wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck, bracing herself on him, as he pressed his hard cock against her, groaning in her neck as he inhaled the scent of rain and grass emanating from her skin. Raindrops were falling down on them, soaking their clothes and bodies as they stared at each other; she, waiting for his next move, afraid of showing him her need; he, wanting to devour her skin, her mouth and her body, not knowing where to start. Martius then moved one hand between them, raising her tunic before untying his undergarments and entering her in one steady thrust. It felt so good that he had to stop moving to recover his breath and last a little longer. He then started thrusting deeper, and faster, and Flavia held his face in her hands, nuzzling his face, moaning near his mouth, feeling his heavy breathing caress her lips until she felt an orgasm building inside her, leaving her breathless as she clenched around him. She let her head fall on his shoulder, still throbbing around his cock, when he let go a deep growl and finished inside her after a powerful thrust that pinned her even harder against the tree.

Martius remembered the feeling of her body rubbing against his as he carefully brought her down to the floor, breathless, and trembling; how she managed to run away after someone shouted her name from inside the house, and how she looked back and smiled at him as she adjusted her tunic before entering the house.

He sighed, as a familiar voice brought him back to reality, though it felt more like a bad trick from the Gods.

“Let me congratulate you again, my dear Martius. It was about time you cared for your family, and not only war and oaken garlands, my friend.” Martius did not have to look at him to notice the grin in his dear friend’s voice.

“My beloved and noble Menenius, I’m well aware you know I don’t care about those things, so I can only suppose you have been engaged in an interesting conversation with my dear mother.” Martius hugged him, and tried to welcome his good friend with a warm smile, but he could not find one.

Menenius placed his hands over Martius’ shoulders, facing him as he carefully studied his expression. “You know I couldn’t love you more had you been my son, Martius. I’ve tried to guide you as such since your father’s death, and I’ve seen you succeed in the most dangerous fields. But today I’m worried about you, son. Pray you, tell me what’s affrighting the bravest soldier in the whole Rome.”

“Worry not, my dear friend. ‘Tis nothing that a good battle cannot mend. You well know I’m a man of action, and this quiet life in Rome does not become me. It has my blood boiling having to be kept among soft cushions, worried women and the comforts of the city instead of giving my blood for them.” He turned around, hoping Menenius would drop the subject, but doing so, he stood face to face with Flavia, who was bringing wine for the guests.

She blushed when she met Martius’ eyes on her, and she lowered her eyes, embarrassed at the unwanted attention, as she heard Menenius chuckling behind them. She offered them a glass of wine before turning around, and his eyes followed her until she left the room.

Martius felt Menenius’ hand over his shoulder. “You have now a beautiful and proper wife, Martius. Choose wisely where you lay your desires, and be careful.”

Martius let go a deep sigh. “Too late, my friend. Too late.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the delay in updating this story. A huge block and real life got in the way. Besides, I'm trying to make this story as historically accurate as possible. That includes studying the original source of Coriolanus (Plutarch), and reading about the life, behavior, clothes, medicine, ceremonies, slavery, etc in ancient Rome. That takes time, too.  
> Anyway, I promise it won't take that long to write the next chapters. I hope it doesn't disappoint! #fingerscrossed

The cheerful sounds coming from the triclinium filled the house, and could be heard even from the kitchen, at the opposite end of the house. Claudia was so eager to see with her own eyes what was happening there, that she took her chance when Flavia sat down in the kitchen for a few minutes, and wanting to know what was happening first hand, she took the big bronze dish with the stuffed game and the sauce, and brought it herself.

Claudia entered the triclinium, delaying long enough as to take note of every detail of what was happening: from the guest’s dresses and their manners to how much they were drinking and eating. It had been a long time since the last time that something joyful had happened in this household, and she wanted to treasure everything in her mind. Nothing would escape her sharp eye, so she could gossip every single thing later in the market. This would grant her a lot of attention there for at least a few days.

After she left the sliced meat on the central table, she took a look at the dinner guests, reclining over the two lecti placed around the tables. Not having that many guests today there were no need for using all the lecti or the big table. It would be different for the big wedding dinner, though. As she personally had arranged, in the central lectus lied master Martius. On his left lied Licinius (Virgilia’s father), and over the one on the right lied Menenius Agrippa, Martius’ good friend. Four small round tables were placed in front of them, holding the cups and dishes with the sliced goods. In front of the men was another lectus, where the three women were seated, as was accustomed. In the centre sat Virgilia, in front of her husband; Volumnia sat on her left, facing Menenius, and Virgilia’s mother, Livia, was sitting to the right, facing her husband. In front of the women Claudia had arranged two more small tables, so they could reach the food with ease.

Menenius was telling some of his funny stories, making all of them laugh cheerfully as Petronius refilled the cups with the spiced wine. Claudia deliberately moved slower than usual around the room capturing every detail, until Volumnia, not very pleased, called her attention about the lack of food. All her colour left Claudia’s face, and she left the triclinium in a hurry, to urge Flavia to bring the oysters and the rest of the main course as soon as possible before the dinner was ruined.

In the meantime, Flavia was trying to compose herself, fearing the moment she had to go back there again. She just wanted things to be as they were when she first arrived to his house; she would do her tasks, and Martius would search for her whenever he felt like it, leaving her afterwards as if she didn’t matter. But now she felt her skin tickling whenever he was near, her heart fluttered as if it wanted to leave her chest, and her stomach turned into a nest of butterflies each time he looked at her. Flavia just wanted to spend more and more time near him, watching him, feeling his hands and his breath over her skin. But now he was married, and for sure he’d search for all that in his young and beautiful wife in their new home. How will she bear his absence? Just the thought of it made her guts clench in pain.

“Flavia, Flavia! What are you doing there? Take the oysters and bring them immediately before mistress Volumnia loses her temper!” Claudia’s squeaking voice brought Flavia back from her thoughts. She took the oysters and brought it to the triclinium. After leaving the dishes on every table, she went to the corner to grab the small pottery bowls so the guests could wipe their hands in them after eating the oysters.

One by one she passed the bowls to every guest. Moving among the small round tables, she put the bowls first in the women’s tables, pouring water from the jug until they were full. She tried to be oblivious of what was happening around her, moving like one of those Hephaestus’ automatons doctor Paion told her about once, but she couldn’t avoid glancing at her master from time to time, trying to capture his image in her mind before he’d be gone forever.

Flavia saw Martius reclining on his left side. The afternoon light entering from the window behind him illuminated his tanned skin, and she felt like she was in front of a true son of Mars and Venus, as strong as beautiful. She saw Martius stretch his arm and grab another piece of meat with his long fingers, as his tunic slid up just enough to reveal the upper side of his muscular thigh. Flavia was transfixed, and she could only stare at him, at how the sauce dripped from his fingers into his mouth, and the way he licked his lips in appreciation of the spiced delicacy. He was right in front of her and she was already missing him.

She stared at him until the sound of someone clearing his throat brought her back from his thoughts. Menenius gave her an apologetic look as Livia was asking Volumnia what happened to that slave that stood there like a statue obstructing the view of her husband and the conversation.

“Flavia, if you’re feeling unwell again, leave before you make a mess here.” Volumnia’s tone left no doubt about her irritation.

Flavia shuddered, and despite the cold sweat running down her back, she went on with her task, filling first the bowls of Menenius and Licinius, before pouring water over Martius’ bowl. She was silently praying to the Gods to have mercy on her and end her suffering, but the moment Martius touched her hand as he grabbed the bowl, all her resolve vanished, and she knew she would not give up this sweet torture for anything. She may not see him again, but no one would steal the memories, and those would keep her for as long as she lived.

Flavia turned around and, holding back the tears, she took a last look at Martius and left the room almost in a run. No one noticed, of course, as there were also Claudia and Petronius as well as a couple of servants from Licinius’ household, hurrying around the room to bring more food and refilling cups. Well, maybe someone did, after all. Virgilia, who couldn’t keep her eyes off from her husband, noticed how Martius looked at Flavia whenever she was in the room, but soon she got engaged in a conversation with Livia and Volumnia and forgot about it. She was just a slave, after all.

Martius had tried to avoid looking at Flavia at any cost, but to no avail. Whenever she entered the room his eyes were drawn to her, as iron rings were attracted to magnetic stones. He tried to avoid her, because she was everything he couldn’t have in Virgilia; everything he wanted. He had thought that maybe, if he didn’t acknowledge her, time would diminish the passion boiling inside him. But it only took a glance at her to know it was hopeless.

He cursed the quiet life in the city for having made him so soft. If his fellow soldiers could see him now, wounded, married, and worried about a slave woman, he’d be the laughing stock of the camp. Maybe what he needed was to go back to them, be among men and soldiers, fight, bleed and enjoy the thrill of the battle to be his old self again. Yes, that was what he’d do as soon as the damned wedding celebration would end. Meanwhile, he’d have to avoid Flavia as much as possible.

Feeling somehow relieved after his decision, he tried to at least enjoy the meal and the company. He could always count on the good Menenius to cheer everyone up with his good spirit and hilarious anecdotes.

After a few hours eating and drinking, the first dinner celebration had ended, and Menenius, Licinius, Livia and Virgilia went to rest in their rooms after Volumnia had convinced them to stay instead of returning home this late into the night. That way, the next morning they could prepare together the most important part of the wedding ceremony and public dinner that’d be held in five days.

Martius tried to have some rest, but every time he fell asleep nightmares invaded his dreams, and he woke up sweating, with his heart thumping loud and fast in his chest, and a feeling of deep uneasiness inside. After fighting with the blankets for a while, he decided to go to the gardens and burn that anxiety with some hard training.

He started with the wooden sword, hitting the pole with the vehemence of one blaming it for his nightmares. He did it until his arm ached under the heavy weight of the training weapon, and the air refused to fill his lungs. Even if his body was tired, his mind wouldn’t allow him to have a rest, so he would to go for a run in his full armour, though seeing that it’d be too noisy at that time of the night, he only wore his hard leather breastplate and the sword to add some weight to the training. There was no point in waking up the whole household just because he couldn’t sleep. Besides, Volumnia would be worried and would want to know the reason for his uneasiness, and nothing was farther from his wishes than having that conversation with his mother.

Martius run until his feet hurt and his legs felt numb. It was still long before sunrise when he arrived back home, sweating, aching and exhausted. The house was still silent, all the family still sleeping after staying late the night before. He was overheated from the exercise, so he took off his armour and scabbard as he went into the house. As he walked towards the back garden, surrounding the columns and the rose bushes, he took off his tunic, letting the light morning breeze refresh his skin. Getting rid of his sandals and undergarments, he piled everything by the edge, and stepped as quietly as he could into the pool. After swimming a few laps, he closed his eyes, and let his body and mind float, trying to feel nothing but the water around his skin.

Soon Martius heard someone approaching. It was too early even for the servants to start their tasks. Wandering who could be the one also robbed of sleep, he swam to the edge of the pool and jumped out of the water in one smooth but powerful movement. As he got closer to the spot where his clothes were piled up, the intruder arrived to the edge of the pool in a hurry.

“Celer, no!”

Flavia called the family dog, thinking that the noises in the water were the result of the playful beast jumping into the pool again. It was not the first time that, being unable to sleep, she had woken up to start her tasks earlier only to find it running around, making a mess everywhere. She would have to dry him before the whole house would be soaked, and she already had too many things to do that day to add fixing that dog’s mischiefs to the list.

But it wasn’t Celer who was in the pool.

“Master! I… I’m sorry… I thought… the dog… I…”

Flavia was fiercely blushing at the vision in front of her. She had seen Martius naked before, of course, but this was different. He wasn’t wounded, or unconscious. She knew she should turn around and respect his privacy, but she could not stop looking at him. He run his fingers through his soaked hair and shook it off vigorously, sprinkling her with cold droplets of water. Flavia stood there, watching open-mouthed how his chest broadened with the movement of his arms while rivulets of water made their way down his muscled body as he stopped to pick up his clothes.

She watched them travel through the scar in his neck, still fresh from the recent wounds, and she followed their path down his broad shoulders and chiselled chest until they rested in his belly button. All but one adventurous droplet, that fell from the belly button following the light trail of hair that reached his sex. She let go a disappointed whimper when the drop of water disappeared behind the clothes Martius was using to cover his manhood. Soon enough, though, he dropped them to the floor, revealing his arousal as he walked the few paces that kept them apart. He was so close now that she was sure the next beat of her heart would hit his chest.

Watching her there, blushing and heaving while his skin burnt under her scrutiny, was too much for Martius to keep his decision of ignoring her before he’d leave. He could feel the warmth of her body through her clothes, and, leaning towards her, he nuzzled her ear, inhaling the light scent of the lavender oil she used every day.

Martius thought of all the women he’d had since he became a man. Slaves, prostitutes, war conquests… He wouldn’t remember their names or even their faces, being mere instruments for his pleasure, but he wondered what was different in Flavia, that made him want to not only ravish her all day, but also cherish, adore and protect her. Being around her was enough to calm his anger, but she also made his heart jump at the mere thought of her hands touching his skin, to the point of being unbearable to be in her presence without touching her in any way.

His mind was shouting him to go, to leave and forget her, before they’d be both hurt, but the increasing pressure in his groin soon shut those thoughts out. “Just one last time”, he thought.

“Flavia…”

His voice was just a whisper in her ear, but travelled through her body until it reached the spot between her legs that was already aching for him. Before she could think what she was doing, her fingers gingerly traced the scar on his neck, starting behind his right ear, and all the way down to his collarbone.

“It’s almost healed…” she whispered.

Her skin was burning with need, but the cold drops falling from his hair over her skin were not enough to cool her down. She wanted to burn under his touch, and she did, the moment Martius brushed his lips over a blessed spot in her neck, eliciting from her throat a deep sound she did not know could be voiced. She felt him hardening and stirring against her belly, breathing heavily as he looked at her with an intensity she had never felt before. But despite that intensity, he was not tough; on the contrary, he was touching her delicately, as if she would break at any moment under his touch. It was maddening. She wanted more, needed more, and she let him know sliding her hand down his body to wrap his cock with his fingers.

Martius hissed as she touched him, and cupping her face with his still wet hands, leant over her closing the distance between their lips, but he did not kiss her.

“No” he said, withdrawing his soaked body from hers. Flavia whimpered in frustration at the sudden loss of his touch. “Not like this. Not tonight.”

Martius looked at her, and she saw a hint of pain and desperation in his eyes. And even if he didn’t say it loud, she knew. This was the end; the end of her little world that she’d been dreading since his engagement.

She nodded in a sad agreement and wrapping her arms around her belly, she turned around, ready to leave the pool to go on with her daily tasks. That’s what she should have been doing, instead of letting her head fill with crazy ideas about him. Blinking back the tears, she forced herself to put one foot before the other and walk away from him. She’d have the rest of her life to cry over Caius Martius.


	8. Chapter 8

Flavia was trying to walk away from Martius, but her body was betraying her, and it refused to move from the spot. Her feet felt heavy, as if they were nailed to the floor, and the hairs on her skin were standing on its ends, trying to shorten the distance with his body, craving for the slightest touch. Barely able to breathe, she felt the tears pooling in her eyes, threatening to turn her into a mess right there, despite her efforts for trying to keep her scarce dignity while her whole body was pulling her towards him.

 “Where are you going?”

His deep voice brought her back from her trance, and she noticed it was not her body pulling her back. It was Martius, holding her wrist to keep her from leaving.

Flavia turned around, confused. He had said no. He had made it clear that he would not have her again. What more could he want from her? She had already given him everything she had, her body, her mind, her soul… If he wasn’t going to touch her ever again, she’d rather leave now than reliving this torture over and over again.

Martius gingerly pulled her hand, bringing her so close to him that the water dripping from his face and hair fell on her face, and she felt the droplets sliding down her neck and collarbones.  Or maybe they were her tears? She wouldn’t know by now. Flavia closed her eyes and tried to conceal a moan when she felt the drops slowly caressing her skin until they reached her cleavage and got lost under her dress, leaving a trail of goose bumps after them.  She had never felt this physical need before, and the anguish of knowing she’d never have it again was breaking her inside.

She tried to keep her mind clear, but he was so close that she could feel the warmth of his skin through her clothes, intoxicating her with his mere presence. He smelled like fresh water and grass, and there was a characteristic scent in a spot behind his ear, so comforting that she thought she could stay there forever.

He lifted her chin with his right hand, forcing her to look at him, and whispered her name, waiting for an answer. “Flavia?”

She saw confusion in his eyes, and she hesitated about what to say.

“You… I… You said no...”

She lowered her eyes, avoiding his gaze. She had endured many things during her life, and she knew the Gods had reserved harder struggles for her in the future. Given her status in life, she couldn’t hope for anything less. But her master’s rejection was more than she could take, and once was more than enough. She felt like she was being stabbed over and over again by those piercing blue eyes that searched for hers. Flavia wondered if someone could die of a broken heart, because she was sure hers was breaking in a myriad pieces right then.

Martius tried to understand why she had wanted to leave, but it wasn’t until he saw tears in her eyes that he started to suspect why, and a strange feeling took hold of him; there was hope, and joy over the suspicion of a shared feeling, but also a pain he had only known when she had fainted a few weeks ago.

He wondered for a moment what to say. He, Caius Martius, the soldier, who could command armies and harangue them into battle; the one who could eloquently speak his mind before both senators and plebeians, was speechless before the woman who held his heart in her hands and the one who, despite being his property, could never be properly and fully his.

“Flavia, look at me.” His voice was commanding, but gentle at the same time. Flavia didn’t want to look at him, but she knew she couldn’t refuse him anything he’d ask of her. She opened her eyes slowly, and as she raised her head, the tears pooling in her eyes fell down her cheeks.

He wiped away her tears with his thumb as he stared into her beautiful dark eyes. “Why are you crying?”

She shook her head. How could she tell him he was the only good thing in her life and now he was abandoning her and her heart would be broken? She’d never dare to say it loud, least the fickle Gods would decide to punish her for speaking thus to her master.

“Flavia…” Martius insisted, patiently, still aroused by the proximity of their bodies. Resisting the overwhelming desire of kissing her was proving to be a challenge.

She hesitated. Would telling him make any difference in the end? She knew it wouldn’t. He would still marry Virgilia, and he’d leave the house to create his own family. And she’d still be the same insignificant broken-hearted slave nobody cared about.

“It’s… It’s nothing, master… Just…” The words still refused to come out of her mouth. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and gathering all the courage she could muster, she went on. “You’re getting married, and you’ll leave, and…”

“And…?”

_Who will take care of you now when you’re wounded? Will they be gentle? Will you bring other slaves to your bed? Will you remember me?_   All the worries that filled her head and she wouldn’t say crossed her mind.

“Things won’t be the same anymore. I… I’ll miss you.” Flavia lowered her head and felt her face burn with embarrassment. She had barely whispered the last words, so she wasn’t sure if he had heard them. She hoped he hadn’t heard them.

But he had.

And those three words felt like a knife stabbing his chest. Martius had tried for so long to convince himself that she didn’t feel the same as he did, that he almost believed it. Almost. He wanted to believe it was him the infatuated one, that she only complied to his requests because she knew she wasn’t allowed to say no, and once he’d go back to the army, everything would be forgotten. She’d return to her duties, and he’d go back to battle, and then return to his newly wedded wife, who’d be waiting for him in the villa her father had given them as a wedding present. Flavia would forget him and he… well, he’d spend his remaining days trying to forget the smell of her hair, the touch of her hands on his skin, her warmth, her lips… Her.

_I’ll miss you._

But now those three whispered words resonated inside his head, and a warmth he had never felt before spread through his chest.

“I’ll miss you, too” he whispered in her ear, and he raised her face as he continued. “Had Apollo blessed me with the gift of poetry, I’d tell you tales of love, despair, and broken hearts. But that gift is out of the grasp of someone like me, a rough soldier who can command armies, but not his own heart.”

Martius let go a deep sigh as he gingerly caressed the sides of her face with his rough hands. “I was not pushing you away, Flavia. I doubt the day will come when I don’t want to have you in any way, but I will…” His throat was constricting with contained emotion, but he managed to go on. “I will be gone in a few days, and you deserve better than me taking you here for anyone to see.”

He slid his hand down her face, through her shoulder and arm, leaving goose bumps on the path he followed over her skin, until he entangled his fingers with hers and dragged her with him.

“Come.”

Flavia just followed him, unable to believe what he had just said. Surely her ears had tricked her into hearing what she so much desired, but at that moment she didn’t care if it was true or not, as long as he’d have her one more time. Focused on the feeling of his big, callous hand holding hers, she tried her best to keep his pace, though she had to run to do it.

Martius only stopped to pick up his clothes and armour, but he never let go of her hand, their fingers entwined. It was still dark when Martius and Flavia entered his room.

Once inside, Martius dropped his tunic and armour on a corner, while Flavia stood still, fidgeting nervously with the hem of her tunic as she looked around the familiar room where she had stayed so many days while she was taking care of her master. She thought it funny that she had probably spent more time there than in the common room where they slaves slept.

But as much as she tried to avoid looking at her master, she couldn’t help it. Her eyes inevitably ended fixed up on him whenever he was near. She got drunk on his beauty one last time as he slowly approached her. Flavia relished on the tanned skin of his face and limbs, contrasting with the lighter skin of his chest, hidden from the sun under his armour. She noticed how his chest was broadening again thanks to the daily training after some long weeks of forced rest. Her eyes searched for every scar on his long body, some of them so subtle that only Martius and her knew about them.

By the time her sight reached his hands, Martius was in front of her again, breathing heavily as his rough fingers caressed her arms down until he held her hands in his. He was looking at her intensely, leaning his forehead over hers, but the torture of need made her lean forwards to get closer. She opened her mouth invitingly, whishing nothing more than getting lost in his kisses, but Martius seemed determined to deny her what she most wanted. Flavia whimpered in frustration, eliciting a smirk from him.

“Be patient, woman.  This time I’m going to take my time with you.”

His face left no doubt about his intentions. Martius’ eyes were dark as the night, and his breathing, uneven, but somehow, despite his evident arousal, she knew he was in control of himself. This was not the rough hasty Martius she knew so well, and Flavia’s curiosity reflected in her face.

His hands started to roam down her body until they found the hem of her tunic, and hiding under it, they travelled up her thighs, leaving a trace of goose flesh as he took the garment off and left her as naked as him.

Martius cupped her face with his big hands and kissed her slowly, savouring every inch of her plump lips. Flavia couldn’t avoid letting go a deep moan as his lips ghosted over hers, breathing her in. He had never kissed her like that before, after all, and she inwardly cursed the need that kiss was creating inside her belly. It wasn’t just lust, but something more; something deeper that she had never felt before. Soon though, the kiss turned into a hungrier, more demanding one. Martius released her face and grabbed her waist with one hand, pulling her body against his, so tight that she could feel his hardness pressing against her belly. The other one was caressing her up and down her back, igniting that welcome ache between her legs.

"Please, master..." Flavia didn't really know what she was asking for, as his feather touches were maddening, but she didn't want him to stop either.

He withdrew his hand from her back, eliciting a soft whimper from her at the loss of contact, and cupped her face, forcing her to look at him.

"Martius", he said, taking her by surprise.

She looked at him, not understanding what he meant. “What?”

"Martius, not master. Tonight we are no master or slave. Just Flavia and Martius. Say it."

_Is this real?_ she thought. How many times had she dreamt of this? The two of them; no fear, no orders or obedience but that owed to their bodies. That was all she had ever wanted. And yet, she knew it would only be real now, in this private place, while darkness lasted, but she did not care. She'd grab what was offered as if her life depended on it. She looked into his eyes and in a trembling voice, she gave him what he wanted.

"Martius... please..."

She felt his hardness twitch between them, and the growling sound that came from him when she said his name went directly between her legs. Martius kissed her again, exploring her lips and tongue amidst moans as he pulled her towards him, though their naked bodies couldn’t possibly be closer.

Flavia couldn’t say for how long they kissed and caressed. She only knew this was not one of the quick rough encounters she was used to. Martius was being deliberately slow, enjoying every touch and every kiss, and Flavia wondered how those hard, calloused hands could feel so delicate on her skin and draw goose-bumps wherever they touched. But soon he made her thoughts vanish, and she could only feel his hands roaming her body, his lips on her neck, his moans…

She needed more, all of him, and she slid her hand between their bodies, knowing full well that the instant she touched him, he'd be lost, and would give her what she so much desired. But not this time. Martius hissed against her neck when he felt her tiny hand around his hardness, and, in a fast movement, he grabbed her wrists and held them on her back with one hand. Flavia squealed when he lifted her from the ground with his free hand, but soon he had silenced her with a deep kiss while he walked them towards the bed. He dropped her carefully over the linens and kissed every inch of her skin as he crawled over her.

Martius stopped when he smelt her arousal, and felt strangely compelled to bury his face in her sex, despite Flavia's protestations. She tried to stop him, reminding him of the indignity of that act, and of his turning into the laughing stock of the city if someone would find out, but soon his tongue erased every thought from her mind. Martius kissed, licked, sucked and drank every drop her body was offering him as if it was the sweetest nectar he'd ever tasted, making her legs tremble until she came undone crying out his name and the name of every God known to her.

He then kneeled between her legs, opening them wider as his hips pressed against her, and before she was even fully recovered from her climax, he entered her in a slow but deep thrust that left both of them breathless. Martius didn't move for what seemed an eternity to her, until she could not bear it anymore, and wrapped her legs around his waist and her hands around his neck, urging him to move. But he grabbed her wrist and single-handedly held them over her head as he leant over her. Flavia kissed him, moaning as she could taste both of them in his mouth. He broke the kiss to breathe, and she encouraged him again to move.

"Please, Martius.... I need..."

She couldn't finish the sentence, broken by a breathless cry when Martius pushed himself even deeper inside her before he started thrusting, deep and slow at first, so he could bury his face in the spot where her shoulder joined the neck, inhaling her unique scent of lavender, sweat and a hint of spices in her hair that felt like home to him. Soon, his thrusts became faster, and over his broad shoulders, she could see his body undulating to meet hers over and over again between moans, heavy breaths and wet sounds that filled the room.

Martius released her wrists, so he could have better leverage to move faster, and she grabbed his back, sinking her nails between his shoulder-blades to keep him closer. Martius clenched his jaw and plunged harder into her, bringing her to her climax before his back arched, and with a deep growl he finished inside her before falling breathless by her side.

It took them a few minutes to recover themselves from their lovemaking. Martius held Flavia close to him, and she placed her head over his chest, feeling his heart beating slowing down after the exertion. Slowly they fell into an exhausted slumber, wrapped around each other.

Flavia slept first, after a long working day, with a feeling of deep contentment and a smile on her face.

Martius hugged her a little tighter against him, kissed her forehead and, before he too fell asleep, whispered a soft "I love you" she did not hear.


End file.
